The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Written on My Skin



Dazai squirmed a little under the cool strokes of Chuuya’s brush over his back, only to get a hand firmly planted between his shoulder blades.

“Hold still,” Chuuya warned in a low voice. “You’ll make me smear the ink.”

Then Chuuya’s hand withdrew and Dazai whined a little when even the weight of him lifted from the bed.

“I’m adjusting the angle,” Chuuya said, amused. “I’ll be right back.” He was clearly enjoying this, marking Dazai as his own, and had insisted on creating proof this happened.

He came back quickly enough, though Dazai would rather he didn’t bring the camera close enough to catch his face and every expression besides Chuuya’s movements over his body. Dazai was sprawled naked on his stomach as Chuuya painted shivery patterns of kanji over his back and sides. ‘Property of Nakahara Chuuya.’

Chuuya ran a finger gently alongside the beginnings of the word ‘property’ with a fierce grin.

“So possessive,” Dazai teased, breathlessly.

Chuuya just chuckled and returned to his former position. His fingers wandered alongside the brush, his mouth bent near enough to breathe arousal into Dazai’s skin.

“The ink will wear off in a few days. I’ll need to reapply it.” Chuuya said it lightly, but it hit Dazai like it had all the weight of a punch behind it.

“Oh.” They would do this again.

Chuuya kissed his shoulder and traced ink right behind it, making Dazai shudder again.

That firm, possessive hand pressed back down. “Hold still, Dazai.” Chuuya’s voice curled around him, low and deep.

Dazai swallowed and held still. Long enough for Chuuya to finish writing. Long enough for Chuuya to lift the brush from his body and for his skin to cool.

“The ink has to dry,” Chuuya said lightly, but his fingers weren’t moving to close up bottles and put away his supplies. They were doing something, uncapping, capping. Dazai wondered then felt confirmation when Chuuya’s hands returned, wandering all over Dazai’s backside below the ink, slick with lube. “Think you can hold still?”

Dazai nodded eagerly and let Chuuya work his fingers inside to work his magic inside Dazai’s body as well as out.

Afterward, Chuuya showed him the video while he cleaned up, every second of his vulnerability captured as Chuuya did as he wanted and Dazai lay at his mercy.

“At least you won’t have to record next time,” Dazai noted aloud.

Chuuya just shot him a grin that made heat curl up in the bottom of his belly. “Oh, I’m certainly recording next time.”

Dazai opened his mouth and shut it and looked back at the screen, his own face open and painted with pleasure.

Chuuya slid his hand under Dazai’s jaw and tipped his head to look at Chuuya instead of the screen. “You’re mine now, right?”

He’d already agreed, yet wasn’t sure he wanted to say the words again. But Chuuya just fixed him with that stubborn patient look that meant he wasn’t going to get out of it. He settled for nodding his agreement. There was writing on his skin that said as much.

“I want to enjoy how pretty you are like this,” Chuuya said, then leaned down and kissed him. “Over and over and over.” He followed each repetition with another kiss, then didn’t stop kissing, and Dazai forgot to protest to making another video.


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